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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398881">Serendipity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort'>Ange_de_la_Mort</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:33:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ed and Al return from Munich, after they've talked to and cried with Winry, there is one other person Ed has to tell he's back. One person that never stopped waiting...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Elric/Roy Mustang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Serendipity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written in 2019 for the <a href="https://twitter.com/RoyEdZine">RoyEd zine</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time is nothing more than a random coincidence. </p><p>Just like first times often are. His first transmutation, his first contact with the military, his first meeting with the homunculi. A collection of utter coincidences, eventually turning into something bigger, something Ed wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams, wouldn't ever have wanted to imagine.</p><p>His journey through the Gate, the forced time in Munich; it was all a collection of coincidences that eventually became fate. The path back home; his long-planned and often desperate attempts, of which one coincidentally worked, but only after many years.</p><p>The fact that he is sitting here with Mustang, in his tiny, crammed apartment, drinking tea is... fine, <em>that</em> <em>one</em> is no coincidence, admittedly, but rather a conscious decision. </p><p>It was one of the first things he had done after he and Al had made their way home, to Resembool, right after they had both hugged Winry tightly, after they had told her what they had experienced in Munich: He had immediately reached for the telephone and dialed Mustang's number, his private number, for he knew that he could no longer reach him via the military line.</p><p>When Mustang didn't answer the first ring, he hadn't thought anything of it: Mustang didn't belong to the military anymore, so he wasn't expected to sit at a desk all day long and reach for his phone within fractions of a second. Now he was nothing more than a simple man, a civilian. It was kind of a bizarre thought, Ed had in mind at the second ring, at the third. Basically, he couldn't imagine Mustang at all without a uniform, and the few times he'd seen him in a suit had always seemed out of place.</p><p>"Yes?" A voice came from the line, and Ed was so suddenly torn from his thoughts that he almost dropped the phone in shock. Hastily, he opened his mouth to say something, but failed to make a sound. "...who's there?" he heard Mustang's skeptical voice on his ear, as close as if they were standing next to each other, even though they were so many miles apart. </p><p>Ed let his tense shoulders hang with relief and smiled, imagining Mustang raising his eyebrows and looking angrily and impatiently at the phone.</p><p>...only now it became really clear to him that he had really found the way home. Only now did he feel like he used to, when they often kept silent for minutes or threw mutual, sometimes even well-meaning insults at each other. Only now did he realize that he had missed Mustang and their fights.</p><p>"This is not funny, I'm going to hang up now. Don't ever try to call agai-"</p><p>"Wait!" he quickly shouted and bit his lower lip, sighing softly. "Wait. It's me."</p><p>There was silence on the other end, and Ed was afraid that Mustang had truly hung up. Then, a few moments later: "Edward."</p><p>It wasn't a question. No disbelieving sounds, no tears, unlike Winry, Al and Ed himself. It was almost as if Mustang had expected nothing else. In the past, it would have made Ed livid, in the past he would have hated that Mustang always seemed so omniscient to him, with his spies everywhere, with his ears on every wall and his eyes watching his every move. Now he felt only relief, an old, familiar kind of security, for which he would totally have to strangle Mustang. Totally. "Yeah," he said quietly and smiled. "I'm back."</p><p>"You sure took your time."</p><p>"Well, maybe I was just glad I didn't have to see your stupid face for a while."</p><p>They both laughed about it, laughed softly in the phone. Probably because they couldn't take their own arguments seriously anymore. Because by now too much had happened, too much that had been bigger, more important, more indescribable than the two of them and their little rivalries would ever be. Maybe they had grown up in their own way after all.</p><p>The quiet laughter at the other end of the line faded, and for a few moments it was quiet between them. A tense silence in which nobody knew exactly what to say, at least that's how Ed felt. He was back home. That was all he'd been able to say to him without it becoming awkward, embarrassing. "I'm back" instead of "I was scared", instead of "I missed you", instead of "I'm glad you're still alive."</p><p>Eventually it was Mustang who broke the silence: "When are you coming over?"</p><p>Before Ed could think, his lips had already voiced an answer: "I'm gonna take the next train."</p><p>Well.</p><p>And now they're here, in Mustang's tiny apartment. Drinking tea.</p><p>They are sitting on the sofa together, far enough apart that it doesn't seem strange, but nevertheless close enough to each other so that Ed can feel Mustang's proximity. He is sitting to Mustang's right. At first, he thinks that it's just Mustang being nice for a change, that he's making sure that Ed can hide the arm with the prosthesis from him when he feels uncomfortable about it. ...which he is. A little. The prosthesis is proof of his involuntary journey to the other world. It served him well there, so that he could at least pretend to be part of the people there, to adapt to them on the outside, even if everything else about him was strange and different.<br/>
<br/>
But then he notices that he is only sitting to Mustang's right because otherwise Mustang wouldn't be able to see him. Ed scoffs quietly. He should have thought of that right away - Mustang is as practical as ever, isn't he?</p><p>"What's so funny?" Mustang asks him, tilting his head a bit in Ed's direction, looking at him. Only now Ed notices that he must have been smiling. "Is the tea not to your standards, Edward?" The corners of his mouth twitch. "Don't tell me it's that much worse than the one in Munich?"</p><p>Ed knows this lopsided smile. In the past, he used to freak out when Mustang looked at him like that, when he felt like he was being treated like a child, like he was being looked down on. Not taken seriously. <br/>
<br/>
...which was due to the fact that in many ways he simply had been a mere child. But that is now irrelevant.</p><p>What is important is that he has understood how he should interpret this smile. That this is the way Mustang expresses that he cares. </p><p>He now knows that this smile contains the unspoken question of "When are you going to leave again?"</p><p>Ed shrugs and wrinkles his nose. "Munich had some nice things, but it could never compete with Amestris." He hesitates, then gifts Mustang with a broad grin. "Even though your tea sucks a lot." He moves his hand to gently punch him in the forearm.</p><p>It is pure coincidence that Mustang moves his hand at this very moment. Pure coincidence that the back of his hand brushes Ed's, that their knuckles touch.</p><p>Carefully Ed pulls his hand back and looks at it silently. Strange. There were no sparks between them, nor the feeling of electrifying, crackling desire that he so often read about in trashy novels in Munich. Mustang's skin has simply brushed against his own, feeling warm and a little rough, and maybe there's a faint feeling of familiarity and trust spreading through him.</p><p>It's not the way he imagined it to be. Nevertheless, he absolutely wants to touch him again. And then once more. Over and over.</p><p>"Many things couldn't compete with this world," says Mustang and pulls Ed out of his thoughts. "Including, if I might say so, your new arm."</p><p>"I... yeah." He shrugs his shoulders and smiles weakly. </p><p>"Do you think about getting new Automail?" Mustang's remaining eye is dark and thoughtful, a black spot in a perhaps somewhat too pale face. </p><p>A sigh comes over Ed's lips and he sips his tea before shrugging his shoulders again. "Maybe. I dunno. Haven't talked to Winry about it, yet."</p><p>"Because you came rushing to see me. My apologies." </p><p>In the past, he would have denied it and accused him of being a fool to even consider such a thing. Now he just smiles to himself. "You still think so very highly of yourself."</p><p>A soft hum is all the response he gets. And then nothing for a couple of seconds. Finally, Mustang says quietly: "I think you should get new Automail, Ed."</p><p>He blinks, raising his eyebrows. "Why? Do you think I'll have to fight something soon?"</p><p>"No, but the spot of the disabled, limping idiot is already taken, and people might think you're imitating me."</p><p>Ed observes him for a long time out of the corner of his eyes. The way he lets his head hang a little. The way he puts his hands around the teacup as if he wanted to cling to it. The way his hair falls into his forehead and hides his healthy eye.<br/>
<br/>
...he would like to put a hand on his arm, or reach for his hand, or tell him that they can both be idiots together, because idiocy is not a limited resource. </p><p>Instead he keeps silent for a moment and drinks another sip of tea. "You know," he says and grins a little, "you can always lean on me, old man."</p><p>Mustang scoffs and shakes his head. "I rather finally get a cane."</p><p>Oh. That was plain. A rejection, one that would have been hard to misunderstand. Ed tries his best not to show his disappointment. But maybe he shouldn't be surprised, maybe Mustang still sees him as a child, an unreliable boy he has to protect. He doesn't want to ask. He wants to let it go, to skilfully change the subject. And yet a quiet "What, don't you trust me?" escapes his lips before he can prevent it.</p><p>Just like he can't prevent his cheeks growing hot when Mustang turns to look at him, raising his chin a little, almost like he used to, almost like the arrogant son of a bitch he's been, and says: "You just want an excuse to hold my hand the whole day."</p><p>"What... what makes you think that?"</p><p>It takes a few seconds in which his heart beats fast enough to make him dizzy while Mustang's gaze is almost unbearable. Then, he says quietly, seriously: "Because that's what I'd like to do."</p><p>"Oh," that's all Ed has to say, although it's not very imaginative. "Oh," he says again and hastily takes a sip of his tea, then puts the cup away. He looks at his fingers for a long instant, at his real ones and the real-looking prosthesis in which he has no feeling, with which he could never really hold a hand. Then he raises his shoulders a little and clears his throat. "I guess," he says without looking at Mustang, "those would be the laws of Equivalent Exchange."</p><p>"...what?"</p><p>Now he looks at him, seeing the confusion on his face. "I... I give you my hand, and you give me yours."</p><p>The silence between them is tense, tense enough to be cut with a knife. Ed wants to force himself to laugh and tell him he's joking.</p><p>But he doesn't get that far... </p><p>"I guess you really are an Alchemist first and an idiot second."</p><p>And when Ed looks up and looks him in the face, Roy reaches for his hand and doesn't stop holding it for the rest of the afternoon.</p>
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